Paradise Is Taking Some Getting Used To

Here it is–the post you’ve been waiting for. The one in which I describe our glorious new Caribbean lifestyle–lounging in hammocks, sipping mojitos under palm-thatched palapas, scooping flesh from fresh, young coconuts–and you read it from your phone in the middle of traffic with kids screaming from the back seat and try not to hate me for it.

Good news! There’ve been no mojitos, we’ve yet to hang a hammock, our coconuts are old and I’m logging more than two hours a day on a Mexican interstate, so I pose no threat whatsoever to your day’s happiness!

Just kidding. About the hating, I mean. Not about the highway time, unfortunately.

I’m pretty sure that when The Good Lord made Tulum, he was shooting for the complete opposite of San Cristóbal de las Casas. Save for the language, the taco stands and the giant extended families congregated on street corners, park benches and single-seat bicycles, I might not even believe both share the same motherland.

There are the obvious differences, of course: ocean vs. mountains, heat vs. cold and 40 vs 500 years of “modern” civilization. Then there are the bi-products of these differences: economy driven by tourism vs. agriculture, bikinis vs. wool socks and streets designed for cars vs. mule carts.

And while I really don’t mind the heat, the beach is absolutely stunning and I’m quite happy to have traded in my wool socks, I hugely preferred life at the speed of a mule cart.

This is not the Mexico I’ve come to love so dearly. This is something else.

We’ve been here more than a month now. Our house is a lovely, one-story cinderblock ten times nicer than our rental in San Cristóbal. We have a giant yard full of fruit trees that actually bare fruit, there are more cenotes within a couple hours drive than we could ever possibly snorkel and the house (a perk of Hunter’s job) even came equipped with a heart-shaped pool. There, I said it–we have a pool.

Our sweet little heart-shaped alberca, made even sweeter when our friends from San Cris visited on their way to Spain.

So it’s kind of hard to admit that we’re having a hard time adjusting. There is really so much tolove.

Back to that bit about the highway.

The girls started school two weeks ago. It’s a trilingual preparatory school, and it’s a 35-minute drive from our house. As if that weren’t enough of a shocker following two years living in a place where we walked everywhere–where we didn’t even own a car–their school starts promptly at 7:30 am. The old one? 9:00, give or take. That means I’m up at 5:15 packing lunches (their old school had an amazing cook), the girls are up by 5:45 (which seems downright cruel), and allowing for the time it takes us to get everyone situated in the car, we’re out the door by 6:45.

Mexico at 110 km/hour is exactly that–it’s MEXICO at high speed. What that means (for those of you who aren’t already grinning as you stroll down your own memory lane) is that at any given moment, there might be pedestrians crossing the highway, road construction without warning, public transportation stopping suddenly to pick up more passengers, or any imaginable object tied to, rigged from, or being drug behind a pickup truck.

It’s laughable at a walking pace. At 70 mph, it’s stressful as hell and I do it four times a day.

This is not the Mexico I’ve come to love so dearly. This is something else.

The girls’ school is unlike anything like we’ve ever experienced. The last time I commuted (and swore never to do so again), it was because I was willing to do whatever it took to keep them in a Waldorf school (think creative, holistic, low pressure and tons of time for free play). And for the past two years they’ve attended the sweetest little self-made, peace-loving, hodge-podge pay-what-you-can Montessori cooperative on the planet…

“Culture of Peace”

One of many circles at their old school. In this one, they first baked cookies, then each person offered one to someone else in the group and shared a few words about the good they saw in the other.

So, it goes without saying, that this is taking some serious getting used to…

Last night it took us four hours to get through the homework. I was brain dead after only an hour of helping Taos through her 6th grade studies of the Evolution of Man in Spanish. And poor Eli–the kids in her second grade class are a year (or two) ahead of her language arts, she’s got to play catch up in both languages and her teacher is a far cry from the don’t-worry-just-come-and-sit-on-my-lap-and-let’s-play-in-the-dirt variety she is accustomed to.

Estella–my last little kindergartener–swears she forgot her whole two years of Spanish over the summer and is generally annoyed when required to think so hard, “Spanish is just annoying here, Mom! Can’t we just go back to San Cristobal?”

I may never understand the logic behind giving hours of homework after a full day of school.

Actually, they all vote to move back. It’s an informal ballet–cast in tantrums and tears, crumpled homework, complaints and cries of utter exhaustion–but it’s undeniably unanimous.

And I get it. I’m feeling it right along side them. On more than one occasion, I too, have cried into my pillow, scowled the whole way to school and stood in an arms-crossed, feet-planted stance of utter defiance. If I were five or eight or eleven, I’d be shouting things like,

“You can’t MAKE me get in that stupid van again. I want to WALK to school with all the other mamas!”

…and, “I don’t WANT to go to the supermercado, I want my money to go to locals who actually NEED it!”

…and, “I don’t CARE if there are other perfectly good Spanish teachers out there. I want to study with MY Spanish teacher!”

But the truth is, we’re not leaving. Not anytime soon. And while this is not the Mexico I’ve come to love so dearly, and it is something all together different, it might be kind of wonderful if I would just quit wishing it were something else.

After all, here Hunter has an awesome job where he gets to use his mad skills while riding a four-wheeler through the jungle. And here, not only will the kids not get behind in their English studies, but they are going to kick ass in both of their languages. And here, once we find a carpool or transport, I will have a full day to write, plenty of inspiration from which to draw, and a slightly more mainstream experience with which to relate to the vast majority of you who also shop at supermarkets and drive cars. (And then there’s the beach and the yoga and the fact that WE ARE STILL IN MEXICO!)

Yes, this daddy is biking holding his sleeping baby, and no, it isn’t evil–it’s just Mexico.

The other night, I stood on a giant rock jutting into the ocean and made my peace in the light of the blue moon. I released San Cristóbal to the endless sea with an exhale of gratitude and trust in the wholeness of that experience. The wind spoke to me, “It won’t ever leave you, you don’t have to hold so tight.” I inhaled the salty air, opening my heart with my lungs, and made space for all the blessings awaiting my acceptance.

And no kidding, in that moment, I felt the shift I’d been waiting for. “It’s not every day that you’re offered an experience such as this one,” the waves whispered. “It only happens once in a blue moon.”

Paradise Is Taking Some Getting Used To was last modified: September 7th, 2012 by Beth

18 comments

Wondering if you have looked into unschooling — Just from reading your posts, it seems like it might be a good fit for your family. None of my business obviously — I just remember what it was like driving kids around to so many different schools (spending most of my day in car) and then having them spend so much time on homework. I wanted something different — something where family was the most important thing. I also love Montessori (my husband was a Montessori teacher), but when we discovered that we could do unschooling the way it works for our family, it made our life so so different. We are now in control of our lives and our time — which is such a different feeling than before.

Unschooling? Yes, definitely…I’m all for it under some circumstances. We unschooled for two years and they were sweet, sweet, sweet. Today, however, marks the first time in my adult life (my eldest is 17–the age I was when I had her) that all of the kids are in school and I have time to contribute to the family in different ways. I am beside myself with excitement for this shift (while also sometimes grieving the end of the baby phase), and feel confident that given time, the girls are going to love their new school (it’s pretty awesome, just different). I appreciate your comment, as it sparked a couple of good post ideas! Oh, and we just found out that some parents here have gotten together and hired a private bus, so I think my highway days will soon be ending! Que vida! Thanks, Stacey, and best to you, too!

Oh boy have I been there before. Sometimes I’m still there. The loving and hating a place at the same time for it’s uniqueness and yet huge difficulties. I hear you and feel for you and am glad the ocean answered you with calm. I remember snorkeling and swimming that ocean there a few years ago when we visited as tourists…and it is a magic place when you cancel out all the other hubbub which it sounds like is blaring at a zillion decibels right now.
Cheers for finding time to write and sharing this glorious gem with us though. And I’ll be thinking good transition thoughts for you guys…and mojito too!

What a treat to read your blog with my morning coffee! Mexican beach community life is very different than Colonial/Mayan mountain life. I agree that having to use the car, instead of walking everywhere is a very hard adjustment. But, life is an ongoing adjustment. This is just one more. [Secretly: I miss San Cris and the oxcart way of life so much :)]

Yes, embracing where you are is so important. I agree with Stacey about the unschooling idea. Your girls sound miserable and the travel…sometimes for whatever reason “school” as everyone else does it just doesn’t work. It is OK to let it go. They will learn what they need to learn and it may open an amazing opportunity that you did not know existed. One that will work for everyone. Blessings to all of you!

I agree that conventional school models are not the only way to go. We’ve homeschooled, unschooled, Waldorf schooled, Montessoried, and attended public schools since my 17-year-old was little. I am totally okay with an alternative route in our current situation, too, but see a whole lot of good in the school they are at. It’s challenging, but they are getting the hang of it, and their needs are being met in ways they would not be at home (speaking for MY kids, right NOW). AND, I just found a group of parents who have hired a private bus with space for my girls! Thanks for the words of encouragement, Maria!

Beautiful Beth!!! For a minute I imagined you all coming back to Austin and that was a nice feeling. But the feeling that you are at peace and happy and feeling acceptance is a much nicer feeling. I love you, my friend!

I feel like we’re leading parallel lives–writer mama and kids jumping into a reality-shifting Central American move. We’re on the South Shore of Utila, Honduras, and our commutes are by boat and tuk-tuk. I found your blog when my sister posted the one about losing your sh*t trying to do the ideal educational thing. We’re in the hodge-podge realm right now, some homeschooling, some traditional, some here and there. I’m enjoying getting to know you through your postings!

I know that stretch of highway pretty well! (Tulum to Playa?) And I can imagine the commute. I’m glad you found transportation. New beginnings can be so rough but the rough part rarely lasts. Best wishes.

About Me

Hi! I’m Beth Berry, writer, life coach, adventurer, mother of four daughters, and hopelessly hopeful human.
This is a space where I show up wholeheartedly (however imperfectly), speak the truths of my heart, and contemplate life’s messy, sacred mysteries.
Make yourself at home! All are welcome here.